


Come the Morning

by thatonewritergirl



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-07 00:42:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5437073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatonewritergirl/pseuds/thatonewritergirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek sees Stiles's morning wood. Awkwardness, cuteness, and eventually steaminess happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It’s eleven thirty in the morning. Derek knows because he’s been debating on going to Stiles for the past hour and a half. It’s a Saturday, after all, and Derek knows how much Stiles values sleep. But the kelpie isn’t going to stop itself, and Stiles has been following a lead. At least he says that’s what he’s been doing. Climbing inside, Derek is pleased to see that Stiles has taken his advice and moved the desk away from the window. No more awkward landings. There’s a movement from the bed and Derek looks over, surprised. It’s eleven thirty, for fuck’s sake. 

“Derek? What the--what are you doing here? It’s too early for this!” 

Derek makes the mistake of looking over as Stiles sits up. His mouth goes dry. Stiles might be half asleep, but Little Stiles definitely isn’t. Not so little, either. 

“You said you had information. About the kelpie? Have you been doing any research or are you absolutely useless?” Derek’s voice comes out a bit more gruffly than intended. 

“No - I mean, yeah - I mean...just give me a minute, okay? I only just woke up.” Stiles pulls his phone from his jeans on the floor and scrolls. “I just sent you everything I have on the kelpie. You want to capture it? You’re gonna need a halter stamped with the sign of the cross. You want to kill it? Iron. Keep in mind, though, if you kidnap him and get him to change back, you’re gonna have one pissed off Scotsman on your hands, and I’m pretty sure at that point, I’d take the kelpie.”

Derek just nods and checks his phone, making sure he’s got the information he needs. “Scotsman. Right. Got it.” He avoids looking anywhere near Stiles, and certainly not south of his belly button. “I’ll take this to Deaton.”

He’s gone before Stiles has the chance to tell him goodbye. 

Stiles stretches, his shirt riding up his stomach. As he pulls it back down, he sees it. “Oh fuck.” Sticking out of his pajama bottoms is his very interested dick. 

 

It’s been two weeks and Derek won’t talk to him. Stiles has tried, repeatedly, doing everything from teasing to nearly outright begging, but it’s like he doesn’t exist. Of course, Derek can’t avoid him forever. They have pack meetings, and it isn’t like Derek’s going to treat him any differently. That would just upset the dynamic of the pack. But it’s like he’s being too nice. And Stiles knows why. Derek saw his dick. There really isn’t any other reason for it. Derek saw his dick, and he’s trying not to make things awkward, but he’s making it awkward by trying not to make it awkward. It shouldn’t be weird. After all, plenty of guys see their friends’ dicks. It’s fine. Except, it isn’t.

He approaches Scott after lacrosse practice. Stiles is driving both of them home, and it’s easy to make sure they’re the last ones in the locker room. 

“You’ve seen my dick before, right?”

Scott stares at him like he’s got three heads. “I’m not entirely sure I like where this is going.”

Letting out a frustrated groan, Stiles tries again. “Look, I just need to know if you’ve seen my dick before.” 

“Stiles, we’ve been friends since we were three. What do you think?”

Stiles shakes his head. “Not like that. I mean like...have you ever seen my dick in the morning?”

“Dude, seriously, where the fuck are you going with this?” Scott asks. 

It takes Stiles a full minute to form the sentence. “IthinkDereksawmydickandIwashard.”

Scott laughs. Not a little chuckle. More like the tears streaming, unable to breathe kind of laughter. And Stiles is pissed. “Look, I’m glad it’s so funny to you,” he says, arms crossed. “But it isn’t to me. He’s been acting really weird about it.”

“You think - oh god - you think that Derek saw your morning wood and now he’s not talking to you? Oh my god. Stiles, that’s…”

“Entirely plausible. Dude, it was right there for him to see!”

“Okay, but you know Derek. You know he’s not exactly the most personable person. He’s like this with everyone.” 

“Look, can you just...I don’t know, ask him if he saw it?”

“No.” There’s no room for argument in Scott’s voice. “Listen to me. There are some things that I’m not going to talk about with Derek. Whether or not he saw your hardon is one of them.”

Stiles lets out a sigh that turns into a growl. “Fine. But you’re sleeping on the floor tonight.”

Scott just laughs. 

 

Since Stiles isn’t going to find out through Scott, there has to be another way. One that doesn’t involve actually asking Derek if he happened to see Little Stiles two weeks ago. But between capturing the kelpie (in the form of a very pissed off Scotsman) and studying for finals, the chance doesn’t even come until almost a month had gone by. 

Everyone’s at Derek’s for an end of the year party. Nothing big like the Halloween disaster. Just something small. Pack only. And Danny. The rest of the pack are settling in to watch The Breakfast Club (because hey, it’s a classic) Stiles slips into the kitchen for a drink. Derek’s in the corner, grabbing pizza, and Stiles stares at his back for a very long time. Long enough that Derek should have been finished. 

“Jesus, how long does it take to get pizza?” he grumbles. 

Derek turns slowly, keeping his gaze fixed on the wall behind Stiles. “Didn’t know anyone was waiting. Do you want a piece?”

“Just a drink is fine. Beer. Booze. Alcohol.” 

Apparently underage drinking doesn’t faze Derek. He just keeps staring at the wall. He won’t even look at Stiles. Fine. If that’s how he wants to play it. Stiles grabs his cup and heads back to the living room, squeezing in between Scott and Lydia on the couch. Derek takes his spot on the floor, leaning against the wall so he can still see the tv. 

Stiles tries, dammit. He tries to pay attention to the movie. After all, it’s one of his favorites, and he kind of strong armed everyone else into watching with him, after finding out most of them had never seen it. He keeps flicking back and forth, staring at the tv, and then at Derek, and then back to the tv. And he knows Derek sees him. He catches Derek’s glance darting away every time he looks over. Something’s gotta give. It’s a valiant effort, but when Bender asks if Claire wants to see a man with Elephantitis of the nuts, he can’t help himself. 

“Did you see my dick a few weeks ago?” Stiles demands. “When you came over at an ungodly hour?”

Everyone forgets about the movie to stare at Derek, but he just looks back at Stiles. “It was eleven thirty. And yes I did.” 

Stiles can’t stop nodding. “Cool. Right. Yeah. Cool. Okay.” He rubs his hands together, unsure of his next move. He hadn’t exactly planned this far in advance. “Yeah. So. Right. And?”

This time, Derek freezes. Like a deer in the headlights. How is he supposed to tell Stiles that it’s all he’s thought about every single time he’s seen the boy? That it makes him want to do ungodly things that would leave both of them shaking and a little bit scared? This is not the time or the place to have this conversation. But he has to say something. 

“It was very pink.”


	2. Chapter 2

Stiles can’t stop thinking about what Derek said. Pink. What the hell is that supposed to mean? Pink? Who calls a dick pink? Better than “It was small” or “Looked like bologna,” but fucking pink? Stiles doesn’t know how to deal with that. He lets the matter drop for the rest of the pack movie night, because even though he wants to talk about it, he at least has the slightest shred of tact. Only the slightest. 

That doesn’t stop him from coming back to the apartment the next day, alone. When he gets to the door, he finds it’s much more difficult to knock than he thought. So instead, he paces. A lot. For like...ten minutes. Occasionally, he’ll stop and raise his hand to knock, but then he’ll think better of it and go back to pacing. 

Half an hour later, Derek walks up the steps, grocery bags in hand. “What the hell are you doing here?” he asks. 

“What did you mean by pink?” Stiles counters. 

It takes Derek a minute to figure out what Stiles is actually talking about. He’d done his best to forget that he’d said anything at all about seeing Stiles’s dick. Instead of answering right away, he brushes past Stiles and unlocks his door, sliding it open. Predictably, Stiles follows him inside. 

“Dude. I’m not kidding. What did you mean by pink? You could have said big or small or nice...but pink?”

Derek rolls his eyes and opens the fridge. “Yes, Stiles. Pink. I only saw it for a few seconds, and I did everything I could to try and scrub the image from my mind.”

“Why?” Stiles demands. “Because my dick isn’t good looking? I’ll have you know that my dick looks great, thank you.”

It takes everything in Derek not to make an off the cuff remark. To actually think about what he wants to say. So he puts a bag of oranges in the fruit drawer of his fridge, doing his best to keep his heart rate steady. “I never said that it was ugly.”

Stiles stops short at that. “Wait...are you saying you like the way my dick looks?”

“Can we stop saying dick?”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “Would you rather I called it a schlong? Cock? Penis? Johnson?”

“I’d rather you not call it anything,” Derek says. He’s definitely blushing, but he’ll be damned if he’s going to let Stiles make him uncomfortable. “Why are you so insistent that we talk about your penis?”

“Because you saw it! And all you could say about it was ‘it’s pink.’”

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Derek turned to face him, the fridge door still open. “Why does it matter what I think about it? You’ve been friends with Scott since you were toddlers. He’s seen it before. Did you ask him what he thought about it?”

This time, it was Stiles’s turn to blush. “Well...no. But I have told him that his dick looks amazing.”

Derek blinks a few times. “Stiles...most people don’t have anything to say about other people’s penises. You’re on the lacrosse team. Other people have seen your dick before.”

“Yeah, but none that I -”

“‘None that you’ what?” Derek has a feeling he knows exactly what Stiles is going to say, but he isn’t going to allow himself to hope that he’s right. 

“None that I...really care what they have to say about my dick.”

“But why do you care? Why do you care about what I have to say? It can’t be just pride.”

Stiles can’t look Derek in the eye as he tries to figure out how to say it. “Because...I want you to like it.” 

Well, they’re getting somewhere. Derek feels himself softening, his body relaxing. Maybe Stiles does feel the same way. “Why do you want me to like it?”

Stiles swallows hard. “Do you really want to know?”

“Of course I want to know. I wouldn’t be asking you if I didn’t want to.” 

“Maybe I don’t want to tell you.”

Derek rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. Stiles can be stubborn. He knows this much. But they’re so close to getting to the truth. Stepping away from the island, he unbuttons his jeans, pushing them down past his hips. 

“What are you doing?” Stiles demands. He can feel his heart beating just a bit too fast, and he licks his lip almost out of habit. 

“Proving a point. Just let me.” He steps from behind the island so Stiles can see him.

Turns out, Derek wears boxer briefs. And they look...well, they look really good on Derek. Stiles can’t help but stare at the bulge. It’s...sizeable. Definitely bigger than his own, which should make him feel inadequate, but really it’s just a turn on. And then Derek pushes his boxer briefs down past the bulge. Stiles licks his lips again. 

Being naked has never really bothered Derek. In college, he was a nude model for a couple of semesters. Art students needed a reference, and he needed money. Laura kept a very tight hold on their inheritance. But being naked around Stiles, Derek can understand it now. He can understand why Stiles wanted him to like his dick. In fact, all he can think about is impressing Stiles. 

“What point are you trying to prove again?” Stiles asks, his voice tight. 

His mouth feels like he’s just swallowed cinnamon, it’s so dry. Because Derek is perfect. Stiles has watched his share of porn. Loads of it. It’s what happens when a guy with his libedo doesn’t have any other way of release. And Derek most certainly has a porn dick. He’s uncut, which Stiles always kind of assumed. Stiles finds he wants to take a step forward. To hold it in his hand and make Derek feel good. But he can’t move. 

Derek cleared his throat and looked Stiles in the eyes. “You said you wanted me to like your dick, but you don’t want to tell me why. I just...I wanted to show you that I wanted that too. In reverse. I wanted you to like mine.”

“Why?” Stiles asks, his brain short circuiting. No, Derek can’t mean Stiles thinks he means. It just isn’t possible. 

Derek just gives him a long-suffering look. “I think you know why. For the same reason you want me to like yours. Because you find me attractive. And you want...you would like to be with me. Just like I want to be with you.” 

Stiles is quiet for a very long time, trying to take in everything that’s happening. Derek likes him. Derek’s had...thoughts about him. Maybe. That was a leap. But he could see that.

“Wow. Yeah. Um. Okay. You want to be with me.” Stiles manages to look everywhere but at Derek. “Arewegonnahavesexnow?” The question comes out before he can stop it. 

Derek lets out a small cough. Never one to mince words, Stiles. “I was thinking lunch, actually. You were waiting outside my door for a while, from what I gathered. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying never. Just -”

“I get it. Later.” He hoped. 

Derek nods, a hint of a smile flickering across his lips. “Later.”

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this post: http://captain-snark.tumblr.com/post/135289946608/sterek-fic-where-derek-comes-over-for-info-or
> 
> There will be more chapters with actual sexiness, but it's three in the morning.


End file.
